


Monstrous

by SQ_Scrawls



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Aphobia, Aromantic Asexual Logic | Logan Sanders, Aromantic Logic | Logan Sanders, Asexual Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Asexual Logic | Logan Sanders, Dehumanization, Disabled Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Disabled Character, Feelings of Dehumanization, Gen, Human AU, Inhuman characters, No beta we die like the scoundrels we are, Nonbinary Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Nonbinary Deceit | Janus Sanders, arophobia, aspec characters, haha sorry folks but Roman’s gonna be a well meaning himbo but also a dick, i guess, nonbinary characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SQ_Scrawls/pseuds/SQ_Scrawls
Summary: Logan has never really felt like he fit in with his peers. He spent his younger years watching his friends pair off, spending time with their partners rather than him and their other friends.When he wakes one day to find a monster peering back through the mirror, Logan finds that he has more than one reason to feel like an outcast
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 15





	Monstrous

_ I shudder _

_ Hands clutching at my arms _

_ As I try to keep the tears from pooling in my eyes _

*

Logan blinked awake to the sound of his alarm, groaning slightly as he rolled over to turn it off.

His head wouldn’t turn more than a few degrees, catching oddly on his pillow. 

He sat up with no difficulty, his head tilting forward as he reached for his glasses. His head felt heavier than usual, and it took more effort to keep it from tilting to the side while he fumbled.

Logan frowned.

Turned to look at the odd shape in the corner of his vision.

The dark gray blur stayed in the same place, following as he turned his head.

Logan shoved his glasses on his face, hands fumbling around the curves on either side of his head. Stumbled out of bed, ignoring the panic that thrummed in his chest and the breaths that came faster than they should have.

He had the sinking suspicion, despite any sort of logical thought, even before he opened the bathroom door, before he flicked the light on, before he placed himself in front of the mirror and stared back at his reflection.

Logan knew the person staring back was him. He made a point to not spend any more time in front of a mirror than he had to, but he  _ could  _ recognize his own reflection.

Him or not, though, the person hardly looked human anymore. Plenty of things were the same. Short brown hair, lightly tanned skin, medium height, build on the heavier side of average. 

That being said, the horns were definitely new. Large and looping, stemming from just below his hairline and curving around his ears and away from his head. If Logan had to guess, he’d say that they resembled a Bighorn Ram’s, though the usual light beige of sheep horns had become a cool gray erring on the darker side.

The small black scales dotted across his forehead and cheekbones were new, too. Logan titled his head, following a trail of them down the side of his neck and across his shoulders. They were almost like freckles, if larger and darker and cool to the touch. 

Logan was probably still asleep, the odd visage in the mirror some odd sort of dream. Humans couldn’t grow horns overnight, couldn’t sprout scales, couldn’t… couldn’t suddenly gain  _ tails _ in their twenties. 

Oh, stars, Logan had a tail.

He ran his hands over his face, wincing as his fingers skated over scale instead of skin. 

It was a dream. It had to be a dream. Logan squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to wake. 

The moments passed, agonizingly slow.

When he opened his eyes again, Logan was still standing in his bathroom, that twisted mockery of a reflection still staring back at him.

He took a shaky breath. His head felt like it was filled with sludge, his thoughts too slow, thinking a task that took far too much effort.

Logan pinched himself.

Oh, stars, he wasn’t asleep, was he? This was real, he was awake. 

His breathing got shallower, got faster. What was he going to do? He couldn’t go to work, couldn’t leave his apartment, couldn’t go out into public, not when he looked like… like a  _ monster _ .

Logan took a shaky breath, trying to get himself under control. Running a hand through his hair, arm bumping against his new horns—his horns, his horns, he had horns—and forcing himself to breath slower, deeper.

This was fine. He was going to be fine. 

One thing at a time, now.

His alarm had gone off earlier, that meant he had to work soon.

Logan couldn’t go to work, not looking like this.

Okay then. He hardly ever took time off, he had plenty of sick days. He could call in sick for the next two days, then it was the weekend and he wouldn’t have to worry about that until Monday. 

Logan shuffled out of the bathroom, destined for where he left his phone on the nightstand. He wouldn’t object to the idea of going back to bed after he called in. Logically, he knew oversleeping was bad for him, more so than under sleeping in some cases, but Patton would definitely encourage the extra sleep. 

And if he just didn’t want to be conscious to deal with the problems he had woken up to… well, could you really blame him?

Just avoiding problems until they went away was, unfortunately, one of Logan’s strong suits.

Logan woke up disoriented, feeling as though his mouth had been stuffed with cotton. 

His phone buzzed, drawing his attention.

It was a text from Patton.

It was  _ several _ texts from Patton, actually. Logan’s friend had texted him multiple times while he had been asleep.

**Hey, Logan, do you want to meet up for lunch?** (9:27)

**Lemme know whenever you’re not busy.** (9:28)

**You still haven’t answered, but is it alright if Roman comes along? His lunch break is gonna be at the same time as ours today.** (9:55)

**Logan?** (10:31)

**Isn’t your break in a few minutes?** (11:19)

**They said you called in sick to work today, are you feeling alright?** (11:52)

**I’m coming over to check on you** (12:00)

Logan cursed to himself, quickly sending Patton a text that yes, he was fine. No, he didn’t need to come over. He was probably contagious and didn’t want Patton getting sick.

The last thing he wanted was for Patton to see him like this. He didn’t want to frighten his friend, didn’t want to drive him away. Maybe it was selfish, but Logan didn’t want Patton to see him and think he was a monster. Didn’t want to hear any comments he might have, any exclamations of disgust or horror.

Logan wouldn’t be able to handle that.

His phone chimed again, another text from Patton.

**Well I’m still coming over. You’re sick, you need someone to take care of you until you feel better! I’ll pick up some soup on the way there** (12:02)

Well. Shit.  
What was he going to do?


End file.
